Page 26 of Knot Forgotten

I run through the woods toward the treehouse. It isn’t far from Cam’s house. I take the ladder quickly, popping my head through the bright opening. My eyes find her the second I can, and her mouth forms a shocked ‘o’. Her fingers splay across her stomach as she watches me stand up and step toward her.

“Hey,” I say softly as I sloppily sign, ‘Hey what's up?’

“Riley–” her lips move. Her gaze lands on the entrance behind me, and I’m sure she is thinking about Cam.

‘He sent me,’ I sign. Then finding courage, I try to add more, my finger pausing on my chest as my mouth works around silent words that don’t come.

“I'm sorry for kissing Cameron and Blake and keeping it a secret,” she says. Her hands say basically the same thing if not slightly Englishfied. It’s hard to sign and speak at the same time. But I can tell she’s nervous.

I point at her before forming an X and hooking my finger down. Following it by puckering my lips and touching my fingertips together, then with one hand, I touch my fingertips to my lips. I stand there with my heart in my throat after telling her she should kiss me. Demanding it, really.

She laughs, crossing her arms as she says, “I should kiss you?”

I nod. “Only fair,” I say, shrugging.

She shakes her head. “Cam–” Her eyes drop to the hole in the floor again.

I release my breath before closing the distance between us. My palm cups her soft cheek, and she leans into my touch, her eyelids drifting shut.

“It's okay,” I whisper.

My gaze goes from her shut eyes to her mouth as she wets it with a brief flash of her pink tongue. I lean forward, holding my breath as our lips brush across each other. Sparks light up behind my closed eyes as she deepens the kiss. Her tongue brushes along my lower lip, and I part my lips, allowing her to swipe in and against my tongue.

A groan pulls from my chest as vanilla cake explodes along my tastebuds. I gather her closer, needing her in my arms fully. She sags against me, and I hold her up as we share our first kiss.

I’ve kissed other girls. Most out of dares. Some while playing spin the bottle in some friends' basement. But kissing Rin is a whole new experience. It awakens something in me. This is where I belong. With her. I’ve finally found my place.

I narrow my eyes on her, ignoring my body's reaction to her. She taught me never to trust what I’m feeling anyway. The lies she promised with her lips. And later words that night, they were all fake. An impossible dream. She was gone within a week. Only giving us a sliver of happiness, and leaving us with a hole in each of our hearts.

“See something you like?” I murmur, hooking my finger into the band of my sleep pants. I draw it down on one side, showing off my oblique muscle down to where it ends. Her chest moves with a deep inhale, and I know she is smelling my musk in the air.

It makes me want to hate fuck her into her mattress until she never forgets my name. I want her panting my name across my skin as I pound into her.

Worshiping me as I bring her to orgasm. Fucking her to put my pieces back together.

The thoughts irritate me, and I rake my gaze over her, imagining what she looks like beneath her tiny shorts and T-shirt. Her dark nipples are semi-seeable through the material, and I want to suck each dark peak into my mouth and make her moan for me. I want to mark her pale skin with lustful bites that she can wear as she walks around campus, which will remind her each time she looks in the mirror that she was in my arms.

Fuck. I almost need it.

She is silent, with no ASL, no words, and I take a dangerous step into her orbit. I know it is stupid, but I can’t hold myself back. Ever since I found out she was Erin. Our Rin. I’ve needed to be around her. Sure, she was hot before I knew it, but she’s Rin, the girl that captured my heart and never released it. How can I resist her now, and do I want to?

Her other leg slips over the comforter, and my eyes drop to the way her shorts have bunched around her hips, flashing her lace panties from a gap on each side. Just a kiss. One single taste to know if it still is the same. My fingers land on either side of her legs and curl into her comforter. I tug the fabric slowly toward me, with her on top, edging closer and closer. Each tantalizing inch makes my heart beat faster than it ever does in my swim meets.

She watches me, slowly releasing that damn lip from between her teeth. Her legs drape over the side of the bed, spreading to accommodate my hips, and I lean forward, further into her orbit.

I can almost feel the heat from her pussy through our clothes as I capture her mouth with mine. I nip at her lower lip, tugging it harshly between my teeth until a rush of air flows from her mouth in a gasp I can’t hear. The need to punish her rides me as I release her flesh and cup the back of her head, my fingers tugging at the strands of her curly hair as I force her to return my assault on her lips.

She matches my energy. Biting my lower lip until I can taste the coppery tang of my blood. It only makes me harder, and I lean over her, pressing her back onto her mattress. The kiss quickly turns into dry humping her, attempting to find some sort of relief for my straining cock.

She presses back up into me like an eager little slut, and I push her into the mattress. I hold her down to keep her still so I can breathe through the rage and lust warring within my veins. Violence simmers as I restrain myself from going too far. And it only makes me hotter. Just a slip of fabric to the side and a tug of my pants and briefs, and I could be deep inside of her.

I trail my lips over her chin, biting at her flesh, down over her neck. I know I’m leaving marks, and I thrill in it because she will remember me this time. No more running and forgetting. No more hiding. If I can’t have her heart, I’ll own her soul.

Ruthlessly, I tug her shirt up over her full breasts. Cupping one, I tweak the nipple until her chest rises on a sharp intake of air. I glance up at her face; her lids are heavy with lust, and her lips are swollen and bloody as she pants. Purple bruises mark her neck—my marks of passion that will be slow to fade—and it is satisfying. I drop my gaze to her chest, pulling on a hard peak and dropping my mouth to the other and sucking, hard. She arches up into me, her fingers digging into my scalp as she holds me to her.

It is violent and verging on the edge of pain for both of us, but it is exactly what I need. An outlet for this rage that is brewing inside of me, someplace to focus it.

And who better than the omega that caused it all?

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